


The Warmest

by allofthepixels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demiromantic Castiel, M/M, blue is the warmest color au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 14:32:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6662599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofthepixels/pseuds/allofthepixels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel wants to know what it's like to want things. He just wants to be normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Warmest

Walking through the square to meet Meg, Cas is giving himself a pep talk. 

This is what normal people do; they go on dates with pretty girls. 

He hugs his jacket closer to his chest, the layers of sweatshirt over cardigan over ratty henley still failing to block the chill from dancing around his bones. 

They hold hands in theaters and have fumbling encounters in their parents’ cars and they want things. 

Cas tries to think about the last time he wanted for anything or anyone and he draws a blank. When his friends share tales of their pubescent lust, of yearning, burning desire, he can’t exactly relate. He gets the appeal, maybe, but he hasn’t quite been there himself. 

This was a bad idea. 

He tries to ignore that thought but it’s loud in his head, getting louder still as he takes a sharp left around the ornate fountain — a gaudy bronze thing designed to look aged despite being planted in the late 80’s. His shoulder bumps into a woman’s leg where she sits perched on the ledge and she offers him a kind, unbothered smile as she switches her stance, balancing the other foot on her other knee. He mumbles an apology anyway, shifting his hands deeper into his pockets and casting his eyes back to the floor. 

He tries to think of Meg the way his friends describe her. She is cute. He’s not the best judge of that sort of thing but she’s a beautiful girl who’s smart in the quick and witty ways that he isn’t and she has soft hands that vaguely remind him of his mother’s, though not really at all. 

His shoulder bumps again into a person and he apologizes through a mumble, looking up to see the greenest eyes he’s ever seen. 

The boy — no, man, definitely a man — gives a nod and slippery sort of smile as he continues walking, an arm wound around the neck of a burly, bearded man who Cas could easily imagine pummeling him in a dark alley. 

He can’t resist peaking back at the pair a few paces later when they’re stopped at a cross-walk. Green eyes is scanning the crowd and they catch one another’s stares again before Cas can shake his head and keep trudging. It’s weird and electric and Cas fiddles with the pinky-sized holes in his coat pockets with a renewed buzz of energy. 

When he gets to the cafe, he sees Meg’s stocking-clad legs and can’t-possibly-be-providing-enough-insulation leather jacket and reminds himself to feel attraction. Her green scarf is piled around her neck and it strangely dulls the better parts of her hazel eyes. 

“Where to now, Clarence?” 

He’s long-since dropped his “that’s not my name” response and instead offers a shrug as she loops her arm through his.


End file.
